


Thank you

by meansovermotive



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: F/M, Robin Ellacott and Cormoran Strike's Champagne at the Ritz, Yeah it's Robin's 30th
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:27:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26925100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meansovermotive/pseuds/meansovermotive
Summary: A bit late, but this took longer than anticipated and I couldn't not post about this today, as well!End of the night, Robin and Strike talk a bit.
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56





	Thank you

**Author's Note:**

> Already did that night on the Striketober, but, well... here's another take.
> 
> Also, I'm rubbish at titles.

As she walked alongside Strike in a state of absolute contentment, her hand (she still wasn’t entirely sure how) tucked on the crook of his elbow, Robin couldn’t fail to notice how much different had been her 30th birthday, in comparison with the previous year.

It was almost unbelievable, really, the level of effort Strike had put into it. She wondered, not for the first time that night, whether it had been indeed only some kind of reparation on his part, and what were the chances that he actually may have had some kind of ulterior motive.

She also marveled at the fact that he had planned, in advance, for her to spend the whole evening of her 30th birthday… _with him._ That, she considered, was far from unassuming, and as such, quite unlike him.

Obviously, being Strike, he’d made sure she felt absolutely free to leave at any moment, in the case she'd had other plans. Even so, it did mean that at some point he had in fact assumed that she would want to spend her birthday with him, and him only. It made it seem like Strike felt that this night, which so special was for her, as well as the responsibility for making it special, belonged to him.

She smiled at the feeling of pride this thought brought her, one which she knew was completely opposite to what she would be feeling had Strike been any other man.

They had reached the entrance to the tube station, and she looked up at Strike, only to catch him watching her, a smile playing on his lips.

“So, did you like your night?” he asked in a fond voice.

Robin’s smile grew wider.

“I loved it, Cormoran. All of it. It was… really thoughtful, what you did. Thank you, really. It made my day, you know” she said, her eyes shining.

Strike smiled.

“Glad to be of service” he said, bowing his head just slightly. “And that I got it right. Was kinda on the fence about that, to tell the truth”.

“Are you serious?” Robin asked, her eyebrows shooting up.

He scratched his neck.

“Yeah, well”, he said. “You never know. It’s your thirtieth, eh? Lot of pressure.” He paused. “Also, for it to work you’d actually have to want to spend it with me, innit? S’rry about that, by the way. If I, uh… assumed”, he concluded, looking a bit unsure.

Robin frowned deeply.

“Cormoran” she said, in a serious tone. “Please, don’t apologize for tonight. It… it kind of detracts from it, which is a shame, really, because…” she looked away for a moment, her arms crossed, before continuing in a quiet voice. “Because, to be honest, I think it’s the nicest thing someone’s ever done for me” she concluded, looking in his eyes.

Strike let out a deep sigh.

“Really?” he asked, his voice a bit hoarse.

“Really”, Robin responded, her tone firm but soft.

“Even the dress?” he asked, a grin in the corner of his mouth.

“Yes”, she responded decidedly. “That was a tall order, but… tonight you topped it”. She smiled.

Feeling at the same time elated that he had made her so happy, indignant on her behalf that nobody else had ever appreciated her like she deserved before (‘ _that fucking twat’_ ) – missing entirely, however, that _he_ may be the common element in both occasions – and guilty for having taken her for granted so many times before, Strike almost didn’t hear what she said next.

“And you assumed right, you know” she said quietly. “I’m really glad I got to spend it with you”.

Strike’s eyes widened, his voice caught in his throat, but Robin had continued,

“Hope you’re not planning on pulling that same act again, though”, she said, smirking. He frowned. “Like, doing something nice once and then you can forget about it for five years”.

He laughed heartily.

“No worries, Robin. I’m not. You can bet on it” he said, arching his eyebrow.

“Well, I’ll hold you to that”. She smiled widely. “So”, she said, eyeing the entrance to the tube, “I guess…”

“Yeah”, he said, swallowing.

She looked up at him.

“Will I see you tomorrow, then?”

He cocked his eyebrow.

“’f course, Robin. D’you think I’d miss it?”

She shook her head.

“No”, she said, smiling. “I don’t”. Then she paused for a moment, wondering whether she should ask about what had just crossed her mind. “You know, Ilsa will be there”, she added, slowly.

Strike frowned.

“Yeah…”

“Do you – I mean. She will certainly have some thoughts about, uh, tonight. Do you want to maybe… not tell her about it?” she asked, a bit unsure.

Strike tilted his head, thinking for a moment.

“No”, he finally said. “Of course, if you don’t want to, I won’t say anything. But… I don’t really mind”.

Robin smiled at him.

“’kay” she said, a bit shyly. “I don’t mind it either.”

They looked at each other for a moment, the unacknowledged meaning of these words echoing between them.

Then, without saying anything, and before she could second-guess herself, Robin put her hands around his neck and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back, his hands around her wait.

“Thanks, Cormoran” she said in a quiet voice, her mouth close to his ear, before releasing him and placing a soft kiss in his cheek, much nearer to his mouth than what would have been usual.

A bit dazzled, Strike responded simply,

“You’re much welcome, Robin. Happy birthday.”

She smiled up at him and turned to go.

She’d given a few steps when he called,

“Robin!”

She turned to him, curious.

“I…Thank you”.

“For what?” she asked, frowning.

“Spending your birthday with me”.

She smiled brightly at him one more time, before turning again, happier than she’d been since a certain whisky-fueled night in a dark office, happier still that she had tomorrow to look forward to.


End file.
